


The Future's Women

by ncds



Series: la eterna juventud [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Master of Death Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-02 17:02:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16309187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncds/pseuds/ncds
Summary: Frankie is a mystery & Gellert doesn't know if he wants to solve it yet***Chapters are not continuous!!!!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is heavily inspired by slexenskee & Tsume Yuki who are both brilliant at writing and incredibly creative and who give me loads and loads of ideas!  
> I'm not sure where this is going, I don't know if I'll continue this as one story or as lots of different fem!harry one-shots :) anyways enjoy this x

The first time he saw her was in Switzerland, as a personal guest to the Swiss Minister. It was at a gala, a charity ball, a fancy-dress party where important people gave speeches and drank champagne.

 He was one of the speech-giving people then. He spoke using eloquent words and compliments. He spoke about the Muggle world and the unrest growing there, about the high-strung tensions between countries after the 'World War'. He told them that they should help, or interfere, or join. He warned them how advanced the Muggles had become, and that the Magical world would almost certainly get 'caught in the crossfire', simply for their ignorance of the power that Muggles have.

She came up to him after he spoke, holding two flutes of champagne. One for him. 

And wasn't she lovely? Her tall, shapely figure was adorned by a long, open-backed white silk dress that showed off her olive skin. He marveled at her outstanding green eyes, and squashed the twinge of nostalgia he felt at the twinkle in them and at the dark red colour of her wavy tresses.

Francina Blackbourne. She came from a wealthy and reclusive pureblood family from the South of England. 

How was it that Britain, a backwards, traditionalist, downright plain society, had managed to gift him the two most interesting people he had ever met. And Miss Blackbourne was as interesting as she was striking. For one thing, her necklace; while to others it may look like layered chains with geometric pendants, he saw it for what it really was. Francina Blackbourne wore the symbol of the Deathly Hallows around her throat, jumbled up and subtle though it may be. It was the only jewellery she wore. 

She agreed that the Muggles had become very powerful - perhaps even  _too_ powerful for their own good. She disagreed that they needed to be overthrown by the Magical community, for a few simple reasons.

"If they are so powerful, why make an enemy of them? What will stop them from retaliating?" she mused. "Why ostracize ourselves even more than we already are? They outnumber us, yes, but we are all humans in the end, Gellert. Our skeletons are their skeletons, our flesh their flesh, and our blood their blood. It would not be right."

Wasn't that incredibly poetic?

"I admire you, Gellert. You are a strong and passionate man, and you are loyal to your cause," she admitted, looking rather somber. "However, I cannot agree with your methods and the deeds you will commit. You could be a great man, you know. If you chose a different path."

What made her speak so surely? How did she know of what she spoke of?

"What do you know of the future?" he demanded arrogantly, his knuckles white around his champagne flute. Francina smiled, and he noticed bitterly that it was full of pity. She laid a delicate hand on his forearm as she spoke.

"I have seen it, Mr Grindelwald. I have seen it, and I know that if you had seen it too, you would change."

He stared into her green eyes, noticed their twinkle and glimmer, and his vision was filled with images. They went by almost too quickly, but the ones he managed to catch showed a war, Muggle and Magical. He was there, beating opponent after opponent. He saw flashes of dumps - bodies piled on top of each other, starving people gripping at metal fences. He caught himself wielding the Elder Wand, then watched himself lose it. He saw Albus retrieve it. The last picture he saw was a much older and thinner version of himself lying in a cell. The depiction burned itself into his brain.

 He blinked and snapped back to reality. Those green eyes were fixed unblinkingly on his own blue pair. Her mouth was set in a grim line. She withdrew her hand.

"I trust that you will learn from what you saw here, Gellert. Like I said before, you could be a great man."

She left the gala after that, saying her goodbyes gracefully and graciously.

 He didn't see her again for nearly two years.

When he did, it was in a large Magical shopping district in France. It was a warm, sunny day. She was sitting in the expensive Café du Soleil, which was well known for it's high-status customers, and its glass walls and ceiling. It had a great domed roof with flowering plants hanging off the walls.

She was, surprisingly, wearing a Muggle dress, though judging by the material and the fit, it was of high quality. The dress was a pale, powdery blue covered with white dots, and she wore pointed white heels on her feet. Her wine-coloured hair was pinned back in tight curls and an odd, white, straw hat sat on her head at a precarious angle. Her lips were painted crimson. She was sitting alone.

She looked up at him when he entered, and smiled, as if he was the one she was expecting.

"Gellert, how are you?" she asked smoothly when he had settled himself opposite her. They exchanged pleasantries while the garcon took their order. There was a pair of gloves and a purse on the edge of her table.

"Did you know I would be coming here today?" He wondered quietly, not looking away from her face.

"Yes, of course," she answered primly, raising an incredulous eyebrow. "A lady like me would hardly have afternoon tea, in a place like this, by herself." There was a teasing smile on her lips, though it quickly fell in favour of pressing together.

"I know that you recently acquired a new wand," she revealed casually. He tried not to react, but couldn't stop his heart from hammering against his rib-cage.  "I wanted to ask how it was working for you."

He swirled his drink around in the cup. How did she know? Was she a Seer? He had suspected as much the first time he'd met her,but he had never heard of someone Seeing images; he had been under the impression that Seers spoke prophesies and could interpret symbols and nothing more.

"It is working fine," he finally admitted, not wanting to reveal too much. "It is an incredibly powerful wand. It is breathtaking to use."

Francina listened intently, eyes wide in her face. They studied each other in silence after he spoke, both trying to decide what to say next. He took in the thick pearl necklace, and noticed that her large earrings, though matching in colour, were not pearls. A second later he realised that they were a short diamond shape, and, when the light hit them right, he could see the sign of the Deathly Hallows delicately carved into the surface.

He was once again stumped. Was this woman a Deathly Hallows fanatic, like he himself had once been (And still was)? Had she, somehow, found out that he searched for the relics, and reached out to him? Had she heard rumours that the Wand had been stolen from Gregorovitch, or had she Seen it like she said?

He was startled from his thoughts by her smoky voice.

"Can I see it?" The question was quiet, and low. Her hand was face down on the table.

He stared at her dumbly, unsure if she had really asked that. Then he glanced around at the other patrons, to make sure none of them paying attention to their conversation.

"Don't worry about them, none of them will recognise it for what it is," she assured him, waving dismissively.

He peered at her some more, trying to find a hint of deceit in her large, expressive eyes. He grudgingly found none.

He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew the wand. Her hand lay patiently between them. He carefully laid the wand in her hand, and watched the dainty fingers curl around the wood. She examined it with a professional gleam in her eye, and he tried not to fidget like a nervous schoolboy.

Then she promptly handed it back to him with a pleased smile on her lips. He retrieved it from her, now beginning to feel curious. She laced her fingers together as he returned the wand to his pocket.

"Now, I have something for you," she disclosed. "And as I just gave you your wand back without complaint, I would like my item returned to me, promptly."

He could barely draw breath. His vision had tunneled, he could only see her, he could only  _hear_ her and what she had just revealed. Could she possibly have one of the other Deathly Hallows..? Was it possible?

He watched, detached, as she reached up to pull one of her big, white earrings out of her ear. In her hand the small pin disappeared and the white faded, leaving her holding a small, black stone with the Deathly Hallows still carved into the surface.

She held it out to him.

He took it from her, his mind completely blank. How was this possible?

The stone was unnaturally cold, almost freezing to the touch. It was smooth except for the engraving. He held his breath as he did as was instructed: turned the stone thrice between his hands. He blinked when he was done and looked around for anything out of the ordinary. There, behind Francina, was his long-dead mother. He was so shocked that he could do nothing more than gape. Her long blonde hair was held back in a bun on the side of her head, as always, and her merry, wide-set eyes shone happily. She waved a hand at him, and placed the other on Francina's shoulder, who turned her head to peer at the woman.

"You can see her?" he asked Francina. She returned her gaze to him, a strange look in her eyes.

"Only you and I can see the apparitions," she breathed. "Speak with her, Gellert."

His mother - or rather, the apparition of her - moved away from Francina towards him. She smiled at him lovingly. 

 _"Mama,"_ he said. _"Ich habe dich vermisst."_

Her smile widened.  _"Du fehlst mir auch, mein Schatz. Es war schön, dich zu sehen."_

 _"Es war auch toll dich wieder zu sehen, Mama,"_ he replied, his voice wobbling. He kept his eyes on the image of his mother as he felt Francina take the stone back from his listless hands. His body was numb as he watched the smooth black stone once again become a white earring being slipped into Francina's ear. She finished her tea and pulled on the white lace gloves, and picked the navy clutch up off the table.

"You can call me Frankie," she murmured and, to his surprise, pressed her lips to his cheek in a quick, fleeting kiss. Then she swept out of the café, hips swinging and leaving him to pay for their tea.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story really, really isn't in order. maybe if I ever write enough to be satisfied with it as a story I'll come back and sort it out, but until then, enjoy this mess of an idea/story that my brain can't fully put into words!   
> Thanks for reading!

_This was a mistake_ , he realised.

 He never should have pushed her, pressure her, threatened her. He had killed her when he had grasped just how powerful she was, and she had shaken off his Killing Curse like it was nothing. He realised all this far too late, when her fingers were closing around his throat and he was powerless to stop her. 

His vision was turning black at the edges, and small blind spots were popping up in his vision. Her face was calm.

Then it was over and he was on the ground and someone was holding him while he coughed and gasped for breath. It was Frankie, he thought. Frankie, who had just survived his attack and in turn had nearly killed him, had released her death grip at the last second and spared him, and was now petting his hair and rubbing his arm, like  _it was nothing_.

"I think that's a lesson learned, isn't it, Gellert," she crooned quietly, the soft pads of her fingers feathering over his cheeks. He lifted a hand to rub at his throat and blinked at her. He thought that she had never looked more celestial than in that moment. The sun was behind her, creating a strange halo effect on her windblown hair. Her eyes were wider than normal and glittering with tears.

Then she surprised him (all she ever does is surprise him) when she shortened the gap between them, cradled his face and looked upon him fondly.

"You're lucky I like you," she breathed, then pressed her lips to his. He hardly knew what to think, only that this goddess, a being far more powerful than he could imagine, had chosen to bestow her affection on  _him_. He kissed her back of course, curling one of his arms around her back and his other hands twisted in her hair. 

Perhaps he had underestimated the tenderness she had for him, and as she began to pepper soft kisses all over his face, and all he could do was stare at her in wonder. He thought of the words she had said to him when they first met -  _"I admire you... you are strong and passionate... you could be great."_

Perhaps he had disappointed her.

 Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, falling warm against his skin, and she dropped her head onto his chest. He kept his fingers in her hair, and wondered at the bizarre range of emotions she had just displayed. He himself was beside himself with shock, for three reasons which all came down to Frankie, but where she cried and chuckled and loved, he did nothing but blink.

He didn't know how long they lay there, at least until Frankie's sobs had quietened down to heavy breaths and the occasional sniffle. Finally he found his voice.

"Frankie?" he whispered, hoping she didn't startle. " _Bist du noch sauer auf mich?_ "

The woman laughed wetly and turned up her head to look at him incredulously. 

"Of course I'm still upset with you, you mamzer. You just tried to kill me!" She suddenly shoved herself away from him, standing swiftly and brushing down her dress. "What a ridiculous question."

He lay on the ground and watched Frankie wring her hands distressedly. He rubbed his throat again, deciding he would let her leave first again, to let her disappear to wherever she called home. 

"I was hysterical. Frantic," she sniffed. "I shouldn't have lost my composure like that."

She frowned at him, eyes burning as if to say  _you-better-not-tell-anyone-about-this_ , although even if he had planned to, what could he say? He would not admit to anyone what happened here today, that he had been defeated, first with force and then with mercy. Frankie had let him go, let him live, and if it had been anyone else he would have considered it a gross, demeaning insult.

She was still muttering unintelligibly. He sat up slowly, leaning back on his elbows. Her hands were on her hips now.

"I'll see you at the  _Lughnasadh_  ball in Brittany, then," she clipped. With a twist on her heel and a very faint  _pop_ , she was gone. She always went first.

Frankie left him there, with his hair and clothes disheveled, with the sun beginning to set.

 Her eyes had been wild and free from the tight leash she always kept on herself, her garnet hair falling around her face away from its pins. She had looked almost deranged in her emotions before she reigned herself back. He didn't think he'd ever seen a woman so raw before.

He was in Zurich, Switzerland. So strange to think that he had met her in this city not four years ago. It seemed like a lifetime ago. The mountains and forests looked the same now as they had on that night. They, too, were timeless.

**Author's Note:**

> btw I have no beta so please forgive any mistakes! x


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